One Soul: 1: 1: One for the Philosophers
by Faria Lyton
Summary: The soul of a Hero from another world has been made to live Harry's life as part of his training to rectify a cosmic mistake. This book covers from the start of his journey to the end of his first year at Hogwarts. No ships yet. First world of many stops.
1. Prologue: Living After Death

Disclaimer: Rowling owns the sandbox, I'm just playing in it. This story also borrows from other worlds, but mostly in a a "Hey, I've got an idea! I saw it in a movie!" way.

Poorly Done Synopsis – Every world has one great Hero and one great Villain. Hundreds of other heroes and villains may be there, but only those two matter. The "powers that be" make sure that both the Hero and the Villain have equally opportunities and potential, and guide their destinies to finally face off for in a battle to decide the fate of their universe. A single "small" mistake leaves the Hero of one dimension powerless and multiplies the Villain's powers to godlike levels. After the Hero dies pathetically without ever learning his destiny his soul is guided to other worlds to train up until he can properly defend his home world.

* * *

Prologue: Living After Death

It was such a nice day. The clear blue sky was mottled with just enough wispy clouds to keep the sunlight gentle. A soft, cool breeze teased the last leaves of fall into a whirling dance. Meandering students, relaxing after final exams, enjoyed the aroma wafting from the snack cake factory just off campus. Kites were flown, ducks were fed, bikes and boards and a few unicycles were ridden. The beautiful day was enjoyed by all.

This is good, as it was the last such day they'd see for a long time.

The experts claimed it was a form of nuclear winter and spent days, weeks even, telling the world just how lucky the people of one college-based town where that somehow only one man had died when the blast occurred. Some people told a different story. They told of a man from the sky landing softly on the cross-campus promenade. They told of him approaching a nameless student. They told of him laughing scornfully before magnesium-bright lightning a dozen yards wide wiped the student from the face of the earth. After telling their tale, these few witnesses were locked in small white cells and denied visitors so they couldn't be a danger to themselves or others.

It was only one mistake, but when you're in charge of the fate of worlds, mistakes aren't allowed. In all the multiverse, out of all the infinite worlds, never had They made a mistake. They couldn't afford to. Not a one of Them could remember when They had been given Their task, or Who had given it to Them, but They knew the potential consequences of even the slightest errors.

Only one flaw in the structure of a single world, in only one of an infinite number of universes. Perhaps They could have contained It, if only She had told Them immediately. Sure They'd have to purge the whole system, burn an entire universe off the face of the cosmos, but the Taint would be contained. And one world is nothing to infinity. But She, a lower Entity with only a few dozen worlds in Her care, couldn't just watch Her domain be destroyed.

The only mistake They ever made in creating worlds to contain the Taint was shortly by the first time one of Them ever broke the Rules.

The weather was only the beginning of what made the day so beautiful to James. His shoulder blade length hair was smooth and stayed in his ponytail without frizzing into his eyes for once, he'd gotten the internet working on his computer again, he'd passed every class (even racquetball), and the sparring club he'd been trying to form had just been approved. He was also pretty sure sure that the cute girl in his Personal Finance had been hitting on him, but he'd been wrong about that sort of thing before... frequently. All in all, it was an amazingly beautiful day for James Marcus Wilcox.

But good things never last, do they? Just as James decided it really couldn't hurt to take a chance for once and actually ask the girl out, the wind shifted. For an instant the pleasant breeze became menacing, pressing down on him, demanding his attention. A soft thump behind him revealed the presence behind him just before it spoke.

"James?" the voice whispered scornfully. "You're the Hero?" Something about the voice was oh-so-familiar, but the person was speaking to softly to figure it out, and a nameless terror kept him from turning around. "You've got to be kidding me!" Then the voice burst in an unmistakable, harsh laugh, and then...

* * *

Peace, warmth, and a sense of security enfold James and held tight for time unknowable before a terrible cold pressure swept across him. Mercifully the cold was swept away by a new sensation – a powerful, all-enveloping sense of love. This lasted even longer than the warmth, but just as James' muddled mind cleared enough to begin to appreciate it, the next change came.

Screams sounded. Words! He had somehow forgotten words – they held no meaning to him, but he knew they should. He still recognized fear though, and those words carried much fear. Fear was scary, and he tried to form words to say so, but all that came was an inarticulate wail.

Then came the light. A blinding bright flashed twice, turning the screams green. Then the green faded into terror, strong and concentrated, as if the light had gathered all the fear into a swirl of pure chaotic horror.

Chaos! That was it! One of the Words! His thoughts were in Chaos, no wonder the Words were all lost.

The light came again, bought this time it brought something more than green – it brought Pain. Jagged streaks of Pain sliced into his brow, pushing James deep within himself, but not out. The Pain tried, and James would have fled before it, but something was holding him in... something familiar -

A cloak of darkness took the pain away.

* * *

The world reformed – or was it just his mind? The Chaos was slowly fading, and some of the Words began to make sense again. But the love was gone, and the Pain kept coming back. James thought it seemed weaker now, but he wasn't sure. Maybe he was just used to Pain now...

He began to notice things, things that he slowly recognized as being Not Right. Like the stairs – or at least he thought they were stairs, only remembering the bottom side of them – his house didn't have stairs. Then there were the people – two were flabbily huge, one was pointily tiny – all wrong! The people were supposed to be big, all three of them, but not like that! One tall, one roundish, one both. And the people were not supposed to bring Pain.

And what was the deal with the doorknobs, always so far over his head? The two taller people – the scrawny one and one of the blobs – could reach just fine and -

The Chaos fled as James finally realized, as he finally recognized his reflection: a two year old child.

It took time but James eventually got used to being a toddler – again? - and learned his place in this – new? strange? - world. Seeing brilliant green eyes and shiny black hair in the mirror stopped startling him, the scar on his forehead stopped looking out of place, and finally James even learned to go by a new name – Harry Potter.

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, that's the prologue, sorry if it took some wading through. James' mind is currently limited by the brain chemistry of a toddler, but he'll quickly mature enough to make use of logic and his old memories – many of which are from reading books (including comics and manga) and watching TV (and movies and anime). He's a bit of a pack-rat geek who views the impossible as a logic puzzle and tries to learn how to do everything – or at least fake it. Reviews welcome, especially constructive critcism. 


	2. Chapter 1: James and the Dursleys

Disclaimer: Rowling owns the sandbox, I'm just playing in it. This story also borrows from other worlds, but mostly in a "Hey, I've got an idea! I saw it in a movie!" way.

Author's notes: I looked up the British school system for this – children five years and older are required by law to attend school. I don't think the Dursleys would have bothered with sending James and Dudley to school before that.

Clarification: Harry Potter didn't die and get replaced by James, James IS Harry Potter. It's the same body, the same life, just a different soul

* * *

Chapter 1: James and the Dursleys

Harry James Potter wasn't like the other kids on Privet Drive. He never played ball with the other boys. He never complained of 'cooties' when he found himself near girls. He never shirked his chores. He spent hours every day just running from one end of Little Whinging to the other, jumping over logs, scrambling under bushes, and climbing fences. His neighbors came to conclude that the boy, while obviously mentally deficient - why else would he seemingly avoid his peers?, was a testament to the parenting skills of his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys from Number Four.

If anyone had every told James – as the boy insisted on going by – of this conclusion, he'd have laughed in their face. He never played with the boys because his cousin Dudley was one of them, and Dudley liked to hit James. He didn't mind being near girls because, well let's just say he was more mature than his peers. He did his chores without complaint because he knew Uncle Vernon was always waiting for an excuse to beat him up. He ran all day because... James loved running. He liked feeling the wind in his scruffy black hair. He liked the natural high of exercise. He liked being able to get the heck away from Vernon and Dudley.

James was very aware that it wasn't normal, wasn't right, for a five year old to live in a cupboard under the stairs and do all the chores for 'relatives' he never could find a resemblance to. He knew that he shouldn't be beaten daily for things beyond his control, like freak rainstorms and bad traffic. He knew a slice of toast and a glass of water were far less than a boy his age should be eating. He knew that he should be given at least SOME clothes that actually fit him, instead of just a bunch of left-overs from Dudley, who was almost as wide as he was tall. He also knew that he'd run away 46 times, and every time, right as he made it to the police station, his memory went blank and he woke up back in his cupboard the next morning. This, James knew, was even less normal than anything else.

But today James didn't care just how abnormal his life was. His salvation had arrived in the form of the British school system. From now on, he'd be free from nine to three every day. Free to sit still with being hit or yelled at about chores no five year old should have to deal with. Free to borrow books from a library – one place the Dursleys never went – even if it was a pathetic little primary school library. Free to finally show off his intellect... no wait... first year wasn't exactly going to be a challenge to him, not after... maybe that never really happened. Anyway, he was still FREE! The Dursleys couldn't possibly ruin school for him... right?

* * *

"Potter, Harry!" the teacher read, never looking up from the papers strewn across her desk.

James looked up from his curiously empty desk at the dumpy woman at the front of the room. "James, ma'am. I prefer to go by my middle name."

The educator finally looked up from her desk at this boy who dared to correct her. "Harry Potter, at this school we call you by your real name. The one your parents gave you."

"But they DID name me James, it's just my middle nam-"

"You will raise you hand before speaking, Harry," she interrupted sternly. "I have a note here from your guardians saying you are to share books with your cousin, as they can't afford to purchase any for you this year."

_Bullshit,_James thought, utilizing just one of the more useful words he wasn't sure where he'd learned. _Vern just bought himself a brand new car, Petunia a pearl necklace, and Dudley a bike. If he's broke, I'm James-freakin'-Bond. _But he didn't say anything, just turned to glance at Dudley sitting six rows over and three seats back. _Well... crap._

* * *

Lunch, James' next big hope, was almost worse. Somehow the Dursleys had convinced the school cafeteria that he would be brown-bagging it, and wouldn't need to be served anything. _Too bad no one told me, _thought James sarcastically. Not that he thought they'd have let him pack anything anyway...

James was startled out of his angry funk when he felt a cool finger slide along his brow.

"You've got a cool scar," said the blond girl who was suddenly sitting next to him. "It looks like lightning. Want to be my friend?"

* * *

James and his new friend Alissa had a great time talking over lunch, and even made a few other friends – most of which only came over at first because James was making goofy faces. Several kids tried to given James a sandwich, but he politely kept refusing until someone – he never really saw who – shoved an apple at him. He ate it quickly, shocked at just how good his first apple in... well, a really long time, tasted. Satisfied that their new friend had been fed, the kids started clamoring for James to make some more face, some of them even calling out requests from him to try.

_Take that, Dursleys!_

* * *

James' happiness last all of forty minutes, or until recess started. Dudley had made some friends too. Some very mean friends who had no problem hitting small girls and smaller boys. The teachers, apparently not paid enough to deal with this kind of problem, turned their backs as James and his friends were pummeled. Dudley ran out of breath after five minutes, so him and his friends waddled off – okay, so most of them didn't waddle, but Dudley sure did.

James pulled himself up as much as he could and dragged himself over to his friends. "Guys, I'm so sorry. If you hadn't been with me... stay away, please. I can't protect you guys too... not yet..."

* * *

Late that night, a green-eyed boy adjusted his glasses as he continued to copy the textbooks he'd swiped from Dudley's room earlier.

_I'm not gonna let anyone else get hurt because of me. If I can't keep them from hurting me, fine. But I'm not gonna give them a reason to hurt anyone else ever again. _He put his pencil down for a moment while he calmed himself down. It wouldn't do to break his only pencil (for now) accidentally. He screamed silently in frustration, slamming his fists (softly, mustn't wake the Dursleys) into the stairs over his head.

A soft _plop_ yanked James out of his silent tantrum. He looked down ruefully at his pencil, which had rolled off his bed and lodged against the door. Resigning himself to get back up so he could reach it, the boy briefly indulged in a nearly forgotten habit – he reached out and imagined the pencil snapping into his grip like a yoyo.

Then it actually did, followed by -

"Holy sh-"

And Harry James Potter did something he couldn't remember ever doing, not even in...

He fainted.

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to "shadow uzumaki" for reviewing. In case no one can tell, James isn't quite sure if his memories from before are real, so he tries not to think about them much – this will change soon. Next chapter will start with Dudley's eleventh birthday – who knows how much will have happened in the meantime? 


End file.
